


Days of Reckoning

by dillonmania



Series: The Dillonsverse [12]
Category: The Flash (Comic)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-03
Updated: 2012-05-03
Packaged: 2017-11-04 18:21:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/396814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dillonmania/pseuds/dillonmania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nate finds his destiny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Days of Reckoning

Now seventeen, Nathaniel Dillon had been quiet and moody for several months, which his parents attributed to normal teenage behaviour. He was secretive and they largely respected that, remembering their own tumultuous youths. But they soon realized their mistake when they saw him wearing his father’s old Top uniform. Nate wore it into the living room to confront them, just to ensure they’d get the message.

Both parents were stunned into momentary silence, as was his sister Star. Lisa wanted to believe it was a joke, but the derisive smirk on his face suggested otherwise.  
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” Roscoe asked sharply, and his son looked at him defiantly.  
“What do you think? I’m going to be the new Top, better than the original.”  
“Take that off right now,” Lisa ordered, but there was a slight quaver in her voice. She couldn’t believe how much Nate resembled Roscoe in his heyday.  
“Forget it, Mom. You and Star should just back away now, before you get hurt. This doesn’t concern you,” the young man told her.  
“Don’t talk to your mother that way. And this is your last warning, Nathaniel: take off the suit,” Roscoe said in a low voice, eyes fixed on his son.

“To hell with you!” Nate shouted, and used his newfound telekinesis to hurl his father violently against the wall. Star and Lisa screamed in horror, and when Lisa tried to run to her husband, an invisible barrier kept her back.  
“Oh my God, Roscoe!” Lisa wailed, and Star pulled her away before she could be injured too.  
“Are you nuts, Nate?!” Star demanded incredulously. She stood protectively between her mother and brother. “Knock it off right now!”  
Nathaniel ignored them, keeping his attention focused on his father, who was slowly getting up. Roscoe’s broken nose was bleeding profusely and his head was pounding, which made it difficult to concentrate and use his own powers.  
“You’re pathetic, old man,” Nate jeered with an unpleasant grin. “You couldn’t stop me if you tried.”  
“Stop it, Nate!” Lisa begged. “Please. Leave your father alone.”  
“Shut up, Mom,” Nate said dismissively, and she was sent hurtling backwards.

“Lisa!” Roscoe shouted with concern and anger, staggering to his feet. His eyes began to glow brightly, and Nate clutched at his head in pain.  
“What…what are you…doing…” the teenager slurred, doubling over. He vomited and lost his balance, falling to the floor. “Dad…”  
“I assure you, Nathaniel -- you are not more vicious than I am,” Roscoe said coldly. “You should not have hurt your mother.”  
“Oh God…” Nate groaned, the pressure in his head growing in intensity. He was incredibly dizzy and the floor seemed to be moving in waves.   
“Dad, stop it,” Star said worriedly. She helped Lisa to her feet, but was also watching what was happening with terrified fascination.  
“Dad…” Nate whimpered, looking up at the man looming over him. Blood from Roscoe’s nose dripped onto his head. “Please…”  
“Roscoe, stop!” Lisa pleaded, sobbing. She wasn’t sure she could take much more of this. Nathaniel suddenly relaxed, freed from his father’s psychic grip, and Roscoe collapsed from exhaustion. Lisa ran to his side, still crying, and he looked up at her tiredly.  
“It’s been a while since I’ve done that. Just wore me out,” he said, and closed his eyes. Star was concerned as she rushed over to examine her injured family members.  
“I think Dad’s got a concussion,” she said worriedly as she looked him over and checked his pupils. “I don’t even know what’s wrong with Nate, but he’s passed out.”

“We need to call an ambulance,” Lisa fretted, but Roscoe tried to sit up and protest as Star held him down.  
“No! I don’t need one. And Nate will be fine shortly…he’s just got a bad case of vertigo. I don’t want the police involved.”  
“Dad, your nose is broken and you have a concussion.”  
“I’ll be fine.”  
“Keep him calm and occupied, and I’ll call the ambulance,” Star muttered into her mother’s ear. Lisa nodded tearfully, and held her husband’s hand as Star hurried away to use the phone.  
“Roscoe, what happened?” she asked, stroking his hair. “When did Nate develop powers?”  
“I don’t know. Where did Star go?” he demanded suspiciously.  
“Just to get a cool compress for your head, darling. Lie still.”

Nate stirred, and his mother leaned over to kiss his forehead gently. _Like father like son_ , she thought to herself uncomfortably, and not for the first time. She was going to have to talk with her brother about this.  
Roscoe was irate when the paramedics arrived, but there wasn’t much he could do about it aside from complain. He walked with assistance to the ambulance as Nathaniel was carried on a stretcher, and the two were taken to hospital with Star and Lisa travelling along.

Father and son were treated in different rooms at the ER, Star staying with her brother while Lisa remained with Roscoe. And as with any unusual case of family injuries, a doctor talked to Nate alone about what had happened, and then went to quiz Roscoe about it.  
“You mean to tell me you did this to yourself? I find that hard to believe,” the doctor said incredulously.  
“That’s right,” Roscoe said calmly, very familiar with lying to authority figures. “I bumped my head quite badly on a shelf in the basement. Clumsy fool.”  
“Is this true, Mrs. Dillon?” the doctor asked Lisa, and she looked troubled.  
“Y-yes.”  
“That’s very interesting,” the doctor continued, “because your son told me that Mr. Dillon attacked him.”  
“What?” Roscoe demanded angrily, eyes beginning to glow again. Lisa was alarmed, and clutched at her husband’s shoulders.  
“Nathaniel attacked _us_ ,” she said defensively, but the doctor didn’t seem impressed.  
“I beg your pardon, but neither of you seem particularly credible, especially considering your lengthy criminal records. Nathaniel said his father has been grooming him to become a ‘supervillain’, and beat him when he resisted. I’ve already made a recommendation to the police that Mr. Dillon be charged and Nathaniel removed from your home.”

“Nate’s developed powers he inherited from me,” Roscoe explained, colour slowly draining from his face. “He put on my old Top uniform and declared he was going to take up my identity, and I attempted to get him to back down. He then used his powers on my wife and I, so I used mine to stop him. I tried to protect him by lying to you just now, but that’s the truth. Ask my daughter about what happened, and she’ll tell you the same thing.”  
“The police are outside, Mr. Dillon, and I believe they want to talk to you,” the doctor replied, and motioned to someone on the other side of the door.  
“Oh my God,” Lisa whispered, eyes wide, as two police officers walked into the room. She squeezed Roscoe’s hand tightly.

“We’re aware of your history and special abilities, Mr. Dillon, so we’re going to ask you to come quietly,” one of the officers said. “And we’ll require handcuffs.”  
“Let’s go, then,” Roscoe said grimly, but Lisa stepped in front of him.  
“This is ridiculous! Nathaniel’s lying -- and my husband’s still injured! Why are you doing this?”  
“We take child abuse by metahumans very seriously, ma’am. Step aside.”  
“Don’t make this worse than it already is,” Roscoe murmured to her. “I’ll be all right.”  
“But what are we going to do about Nate?”  
“You’ll be doing nothing,” the officer interrupted. “He’ll go to a foster home, at least temporarily, while we assess the situation.”  
Roscoe silently held out his hands and the officer cuffed him.  
“Love you, Lisa,” he said as the police helped him to his feet and led him away. “Don’t worry. And tell Star not to worry.”  
“Roscoe…” Lisa wept quietly, distraught over the situation. She put her face in her hands and cried for a few minutes, furious and bewildered by Nate’s actions. But after some moments of grief, she reached for a phone and called her brother.

****

“…So something’s up with Nate,” Len mused after he’d been told the whole story.  
“You have to help us,” Lisa pleaded. “Roscoe punished him too harshly after he attacked us, but didn’t strike first. And he was trying to _stop_ Nate from taking up his old Top identity, not push him into it. Nate’s lying.”  
“Has it occurred to you that those powers might not be the only thing Nate inherited from his dad?” Len asked her, and she seemed puzzled. “You know as well as I do that Roscoe can be unstable when he’s off his meds. Nate might have the same problem.”  
“Oh…damn…” Lisa breathed as it dawned on her. The thought of two Dillon men with the same psychiatric disorder and powers was sobering. “My God. What if Nate’s even worse?”  
“Well, Roscoe never turned on his own family, as far as I know,” Len said with concern. “Nate might just be feeling his oats -- he’s at that age -- but his behaviour worries me. Maybe I should talk to him.”  
“Please do,” she begged. “He might listen to you. He respects you.”  
“Okay, I’ll do what I can,” he promised. “I hope the kid’s feeling rational.”

“Fuck off, old man,” Nate spat at his uncle, and Len smiled slightly.  
“I guess you’re not feeling rational,” Len noted, and the teen scowled at him.  
“Fuck you. You’re not in charge of the Rogues anymore, you can’t help me, and you can’t boss me around. Did my parents send you?”  
“Your mom did. She’s worried about you.”  
“She should be more worried about Dad. I got that stupid bastard sent to prison! He’s probably already some big guy’s bitch.”  
“Your dad can take care of himself,” Len replied calmly. “But you shouldn’t have lied to the cops. He’s in serious trouble, and your folks don’t deserve that.”  
“I needed them out of my hair. They were giving me a hard time.”  
“Look, kid…I know I’m not the greatest role model, and neither is your dad. The both of us don’t have a lot of moral high ground to speak from. But we’ve also learned from experience, and we don’t think you should go into crime. Plus, your parents love you, and they’re your bosses until you grow up, and they say you shouldn’t do it. So how about listening to the three of us, huh?”  
“Get bent,” Nate muttered. “I’m gonna tell the foster mom that you tried to molest me or something.”  
“You’ve grown into quite the little shit, haven’t you? I can see why your dad whupped you.”  
“Get out!” Nate shouted, and sent his uncle flying backwards into a wall. Len was somewhat prepared for an attack, and able to protect himself from the worst of the impact. However, he lay dazed where he fell, unwilling to use his hidden cold gun on his nephew.

“Nathaniel!” his foster mother exclaimed as she came downstairs and saw the strange scene. “I heard a noise! What happened here?”  
“He threatened me,” Nate said tearfully. “He wants me to join the Rogues too, and wouldn’t take no for an answer.”  
“That’s a load of bull!” Len growled, but she was already reaching for the phone.  
“Don’t move, Mr. Snart, I’m calling the police. It’s okay, Nathaniel, you’re safe.”  
“Hell with this…” Len muttered furiously, and got up and ran past her. She shouted for him to stop, but despite his age he easily eluded her and escaped out the front door. She lovingly hugged the trembling teenage boy, who seemed grateful for the rescue.  
“You’d better tell the police to keep an eye out for him,” Nate said solemnly. “He’s dangerous.”

The next day Lisa went to visit her husband in custody, the first chance she’d had to see him since he was arrested. Because of his potentially dangerous powers, he was kept in special lock-up at Iron Heights until the details of his case could be worked out.  
“Oh Roscoe, how are you?” she asked with distress, heartbroken to see him shackled and dressed in a familiar prison jumpsuit. He looked tired and unhappy.  
“Not glad to be here,” he said grimly. “This place is as bad as I remember it.”  
“I wish I could hold you…” she whispered through the glass partition, and he smiled slightly at her. Her words always brought him comfort.

“I’m all right, Lisa. How are you and Star managing?”  
“We’re fine. But things are getting worse: Lenny went to talk to Nate, and now Nate’s claiming he threatened him too. The police are looking for him.”  
Roscoe banged his fist on the table in frustration, drawing several guards over to check on and reprimand him.  
“Dammit, what is wrong with that kid?” Roscoe muttered. “And why the hell does everyone believe what he says?”  
“Len suggested Nate might have, um, inherited your illness,” Lisa said uncomfortably, squirming in her seat, and he sighed.  
“That would be wonderful. And yet not really a surprise. Can you try to book him an appointment with a psychiatrist?”  
“The police won’t listen to me about anything, and they won’t let me talk to him. I don’t know what to do, Roscoe.”  
“Okay, first: stop running yourself ragged,” he told her. “You’re doing the best you can in a difficult situation, so don’t beat yourself up. Secondly, I need to get out of here so I can handle Nate myself. I’m not sure the authorities know what they are dealing with.”  
“Oh God, what are you going to do?” she asked with trepidation, and he shook his head.  
“Don’t know. But at least I can match him power-for-power…and I know he’s up to something, unlike the police.”  
“Be careful. Please don’t hurt him,” Lisa pleaded, starting to tear up, and he smiled sympathetically at her.  
“Of course not, hon. I want this to end just as peacefully as you do. Maybe we can straighten him out and put this all behind us.”  
 _Although I’m not counting on it_ , he thought to himself as she leaned her forehead against the glass in relief. _I saw that look in his eyes._

****

It was only a couple of days before Len was caught and arrested; he was vulnerable now that he was in his mid-fifties and lacked the protection of the active Rogues. Like his brother-in-law, he was booked on charges of child abuse and sent to Iron Heights, although the two men were kept apart and unable to communicate. Lisa was out of her mind with worry, still under suspicion herself, and not allowed to contact Nate. And Star, who was no longer a minor but still lived at home, screamed abuse at the plainclothes officers watching the house. It was an incredibly stressful time, and Lisa wished her family had never heard of the Rogues.

But a few days later, Nate surprised everyone by telling the child protection authorities that he wanted to visit his father in prison. His social worker reluctantly arranged a visit, never straying more than a few feet away from the boy at all times, and once again Roscoe was kept shackled behind the glass partition. Lisa was allowed to attend the meeting, though still forbidden to talk to Nate. But she was so glad to see her son, having to fight the urge to run over and hug him.

“Nathaniel,” Roscoe greeted him politely, but feeling considerably less forgiving than Lisa. He noted that Nate stared at him intently, never smiling.  
“Dad,” the boy replied, just as curtly. His gaze never wavered. “You want to trust me.”  
“…what?” Roscoe asked in confusion. He blinked a few times and furrowed his brow.  
“You want to trust me. You want to do what I say.”  
“I…you…” his father said slowly, and then shook his head. His mind had felt fuzzy for a moment, but it was clearing now, and he stared back at Nate with increasing surprise and anger.  
“We’re done here!” Roscoe snapped at the social worker and jail guards, turning away from his son. “I want to go back to my cell.”  
“Fine by me,” the social worker muttered, putting a protective hand on the boy’s shoulder. She was glad to leave early. For his part, Nate continued staring intently at his father until it was obvious Roscoe was no longer paying attention to him, then got up.  
“Jerk,” he grumbled under his breath, and followed the social worker out of the room.

Once Nate had left, Lisa figured she would be allowed to approach her husband while the guards helped him to his feet. He asked for a moment, and since the fifteen-minute visit had been cut short, they decided it was permitted.  
“What was that about? Why’d you send him away?” she asked curiously.  
“He has mind-control powers,” Roscoe said in a low voice. “I felt him attempting to burrow into my brain. _That’s_ how he’s been getting everyone to believe his claims.”  
Lisa looked shocked. “Why didn’t it work on you?”  
“Perhaps because I know to be wary around him…or maybe my own powers are blocking him. Regardless, it’s not good news if he’s mind-controlling everyone into doing what he says, because he’s going to keep doing it and they won’t be able to snap out of it on their own.”  
“What now?” she asked fearfully.  
“Whatever you do, don’t talk to him. Assume he’s using it on everyone and that he’ll try it on you. Tell Star and Len the same thing.”  
“Understood,” she replied, feeling increasingly upset. The last thing she wanted was to be afraid of her own son, but now she wondered if he was capable of anything. Roscoe pressed his hand to the glass in an attempt to connect with and comfort her, but in her distraction she didn’t even notice.  
“And remember,” Roscoe said quietly, trying to keep the guards from overhearing the conversation. “He may use other people as puppets against you.”  
Lisa broke down in tears. This was almost too much for her to take.

****

It had been a lazy afternoon at the Rogues’ safehouse when Nate walked through the front door, startling everyone within. The boy tried not to look afraid, although he was well aware that he was woefully inexperienced and hoped the Rogues would be receptive to him. But several weapons were immediately drawn and aimed at his head.  
“Who the hell are you?” demanded Double Down, who recognized the costume and was instantly hostile. He remembered how Roscoe -- while wearing that very costume -- had put him in the hospital only a few years earlier, and still bore a grudge.  
“I’m the Top…the new one,” Nate said with all the swagger he could muster. “The _superior_ one. I’m here to join you guys.”  
The Rogues laughed at this, eliciting a flash of anger from the boy. “I have meta powers! I don’t need a stupid gun or gimmicks like most of you losers.”

Irritated, the second Trickster tossed a small explosive device at the bratty newcomer, but Nate caught it in mid-air with his telekinesis. Still unseasoned, it took him a few moments’ concentration to hurl it into an empty corner, where it blew a hole in the wall. And Double Down, now the Rogues’ unofficial leader since Captain Cold had been deposed, suddenly had an idea he liked very much.  
“Listen to me, kid. You’ve got powers, and you say you’re a badass. Well, it ain’t so easy to join the Rogues -- you gotta prove yourself first.”  
“I’m willing to do that,” Nate insisted, trying to look tough.  
“Sure, sure. A few years back, that first Top asshole nearly killed me and some of the other guys. But I owed Cold and promised I wouldn’t go after him or his bitch wife because they were family.”  
The other Rogues snickered and Nate shuffled his feet uncomfortably. Double Down smirked; he was fairly certain this kid was Top and Glider’s son, and putting the screws to him would be fun indeed.  
“So if you want to join the Rogues, you need to put that asshole in the hospital. Or kill him. Cold can’t get me or the other guys for that, `cause you didn’t promise anything.”  
Nate stared at the floor for a few seconds, aware that if he was going to go through with joining the Rogues, he had to make a decisive impression. He needed to be strong. And remembered that his father had injured him earlier, defeating him in front of the rest of the family.  
“I’ll do it.”

The following day, Roscoe was puzzled when a guard led him out of his cell for some unscheduled recreation. But instead of going to the exercise yard, the man brought him to one of the visitors’ exits; he was being surreptitiously set free, and no one stopped him. Roscoe was immediately suspicious about the circumstances, and not at all surprised to see Nate waiting nearby. The boy was dressed in his Top uniform, which made his father instantly wary.

“I presume I have you to thank for this,” Roscoe said dryly, walking towards him but keeping a healthy distance for safety’s sake. “Why’d you do it?”  
“I’m joining the Rogues.”  
“I expected nothing less, although I hope you know how much you’re upsetting your mother. This wasn’t the life she wanted for you. She sought to put that all behind us forever.”  
“Mom’s naïve.”  
“Yes, I suppose so, but she genuinely means well and loves you. You should listen to her.”  
“I have new friends now,” Nate replied in a monotone. Despite the moderate expanse between them, he lashed out with his telekinesis and struck Roscoe hard in the face. The older man fell to his knees, bleeding from the nose and mouth and utterly shocked that Nate had been able to hit him from such a distance. Nate repeated another vicious blow, this time sending his father face-first into the dirt, and followed it with a swift kick to the head.

Roscoe coughed and gasped for air, still not fully recovered from his earlier injuries. At the age of forty-eight and after years of comfortable retirement, his body could no longer take the abuse it once had. Nate kicked him in the head again, and now Roscoe was unable to get up.  
“Why?” he wheezed painfully, spitting out blood. His blurred vision suddenly went dark and he feared he’d gone blind.  
“Because I had to.”  
Nate stomped hard on his back, and the sharp burst of pain was mercifully muted when Roscoe quickly lost consciousness. Shocked, Nate stared at the blood his father had coughed up and realized there was no turning back from this; he’d made his choice and discovered what he was capable of. His bottom lip began to quiver, and he feared he was going to cry. But no, he’d come this far and couldn’t be a coward now. He’d passed the test and was now a Rogue. His father would understand…someday.

Nate bent down to ensure Roscoe was still breathing, and took a deep breath of his own to calm himself. He placed a quick 911 call for an ambulance, then hurried off to the Rogues’ safehouse; he had a triumphant homecoming to make. He’d proved himself, he was the new Top. So why didn’t he feel happy?


End file.
